The Lucky Number
by Shayera and John
Summary: What would happen if J'onn had died instead of Wally? Or Bruce? Diana? Shayera? Clark? John? A collection of JL AU oneshots set in the DCAU exploring whether 7 is indeed the 'lucky number' when it comes to saving the world. *Warning: contains character death*
1. Family Comes First

**AN: Hi guys, I'm finally back! Sorry for the long wait, but I've finally turned out another story! Yay! Once again any review, however negative (though it's always nicer when they're positive) is massively appreciated! Also please please point out any spelling/grammar issues so I can fix them as soon as possible! Thanks!**

 **Disclaimer: No matter how hard I wish I did, I do not own the Justice League in any way, shape or form. All characters belong to their respective owners.**

Family Comes First

Zzzzzzzzzzzt!

Wally was jolted awake by the familiar flash of pain. Grimacing he pushed himself up so that he was sitting on the slab of rock generously labelled as his 'bed'. Looking up at the source of the pain, he forced a grin and spoke

"Morning! Y'know, that shock felt stronger today. You been working out?"

As always he got no response, his tormentor merely waving the cattle-prod like weapon in a threatening manner at him. Wally kept his expression bright regardless, mentally shrugging. Everyone's a critic.

Having been given a signal, Wally stood up and followed his tormentor down the winding corridors away from his cell. The long corridors, grey and white colour schemes and sense of despair that hung around the compound Wally now called home were so familiar he was pretty sure he could navigate it with his eyes closed. In fact, he thought it reminded him a little of the school he used to go to as a kid. Same atmosphere, same attitude among the inmates.

The being in front of him stopped before a large door, and began to enter the complex code required to unlock it. Wally used this time to analyse it (Him? Her? It never spoke, and although Wally never 'looked' as per say he was pretty sure there weren't any telling parts). The creature was humanoid in shape, but had a malleable form. The scientist within Wally was desperate to run some tests on tissue samples, to determine the secrets held within the chalky white skin. They'd come from Mars, and so employing his impressive intellect Wally had (in his opinion quite superbly) dubbed them "White Martians".

As the door began to click, Wally quickly averted his gaze. Just in case, you know, it was naked or something and he was accidentally staring at something very private. He honestly didn't know what that could be, but he wanted to at least try to be a gentleman. Especially if the white martian was female. No female could resist the charms of Wallace Rudolph West for long, whether from this world or another. He didn't want to ruin his chances.

The door having opened the white martian gestured again with its weapon. Flashing what he hoped was a smile that could charm the pants off any warm-blooded female, Wally stepped into the familiar room. As with every other day he walked up to the contraption in the centre of the room and stepped inside. It was roughly spherical, and if he moved it rotated with a slight whirr. He'd named it "The Hamster Ball of Death", another of his linguistic masterpieces.

He stood waiting for the familiar click, watching the White martian. Hearing it he felt the familiar surge of energy flow through him. He remembered the first time he'd felt the power, back with his uncle all those years ago. The speed force, he'd called it. Wally liked the name, it sounded cool and dangerous. In reality it was more of a comforting presence, a faint warm glow he could feel from within. Knowing having the nullifier deactivated was his cue to begin, he began to run.

Round and round he ran, turning the hamster ball of doom at close to mach 3. It seemed like hard work, high energy and monotonous, but Wally enjoyed it. Running have him a chance to think, and helped him feel like a hero again. Like the Flash.

He missed being a hero so much. It physically hurt, knowing he was no longer out there saving lives, that little children no longer raced around pretending they were him. Most of all though he missed Central City, his city. Sure, Superman had the bright lights of Metropolis and Batman had the endless dark alleyways of Gotham, but Wally wouldn't have traded Central City for the world.

Sometimes as he ran he imagined he was once again patrolling those familiar streets, but this time he found himself thinking back to that day. It had started out normal enough. Wake up (late as usual), dash to work. Analyse three blood samples, swab a gun, ID a car from tyre casts. Grab a bite to eat with Linda (why oh why hadn't he told her how much he loved her just one last time) then Captain Cold had kicked up a fuss.

The Flash had just been returning the cold-themed villain to his cell when he heard the news. Strange devices had been falling from outer space, landing amongst every major city. Governments were alarmed, especially after their recent nuclear disarment at Superman's request, however reports stated that both the Man of Steel and indeed the Dark Knight himself were dealing with the situation.

As the objects hadn't landed in Central City, Wally had decided the Flash wasn't needed. After all, _Superman_ and _Batman_ were on it. Everything would be fine.

But then the invaders came forth. Thousands of three legged, white craft and millions of shape-shifting soldiers within them. Superman was overwhelmed by sheer numbers; Batman's plan failed and he too was taken down. At that point Wally already knew in his heart the battle was lost, but the Flash couldn't give up. As a hero, he had to make one last stand.

As he raced towards the largest object, what he hoped was the mothership, he listened in on police reports. All across the world police and military efforts to repel the invaders were proving fruitless. It seemed super-powered efforts were similarly failing. The current Green Lantern of earth had been spotted trying to take down the ships near his hometown of Detroit. He'd managed to save the local hospital, but had been surrounded by invaders and not seen again. The mysterious winged woman of Midway, dubbed "Hawkgirl" by the media, had similarly gone down in a blaze of glory taking several ships and fighter robots with her.

Wally remembered that as he approached the large pulsing object (he hoped that it had been the mothership, that he'd at least made the right plan) he saw the body of a woman soar past him. She'd been dressed (if that was the right word) in a red, white and blue outfit that left little to Wally's more than capable imagination. Battered and beaten, she was nevertheless beautiful; a fighter and a looker, at any other time Wally would have stopped to ask her out.

But, as it was, he stayed focused on his target. Pushing his body to the absolute limit, running so fast his legs screamed at him to stop, he'd rammed into it head on. He remembered how pain had washed over his body, and how the last thing he saw before the blackness took over was yet more white bodies streaming towards him, the mothership (he was so certain it was the mothership) damaged but far from destroyed. He'd failed.

And so now here he was, a slave to the invaders, his White Martians. Judging from the many other cells in his prison, several others were their slaves too. Wally was struck with a strange thought. Maybe the people in the cells were those heroes who had fought like him and lost, the metas and aliens and rich guys with issues. What a motley crew they would make. Heck, maybe if they had somehow been brought together they could have all worked against the invaders. Maybe they would have even won...


	2. Who's Laughing Now?

Who's laughing now?

A man paced a courtyard, a troubled expression on his face. Step, step, step, turn. Step, step, step, turn. His blue eyes were clouded, his mind clearly elsewhere. In fact, the bland greys of the concrete covered courtyard barely registered in his mind. He was too absorbed in remembering something, or at least trying to.

It was important, or had been important, that much he knew. He was supposed to do something... be someone... wasn't he? The man stopped and blinked. A thought has just entered his head. A clear thought, not the normal hazy ones he got that he could never quite remember. _He would be laughing now._ Who? Who would be laughing? At what? And why did he feel so sad thinking about this person...

"Clark? Come on big guy, exercise time's over. It's time to go back now. Back to your room, yes?"

 _Clark._ The name stirred a few of those hazy thoughts. It felt right, but only half right. Something was missing. Still he was Clark, wasn't he? Why couldn't he remember? Regardless Clark (or at least the man who may or may not have been Clark) did as he was bidden. Clark remembered he was supposed to follow orders: that was what he did, what he stood for. As he walked over to the man who had called he meekly took his hand.

"That's it Clark, well done. Let's go back."

Clark followed the man back inside the building. All the walls were painted white, _like a..._ once again the memory escaped him. In fact, he felt like he should remember this place, from before he lived here. Something was wrong, very wrong...

The man whose hand he was holding stopped to talk with another man. They looked the same as they wore matching smart clothes- _they had a name too, uniforms? That was it,_ Clark smiled to himself. The two men in uniforms had a quick whispered conversation, but he could hear every word. Not that it made any sense.

"None of them are playing up today? Because I don't want a situation here."

"Nah, they're the same as always. The H-warders never really cause that much trouble. Anyway, it's not like Mr Forgetful is going to try anything."

"True, but you know who he is, what he could do..."

Clark wondered what they were talking about. Did the men in uniform know him? He would have asked, but he knew better. Listening in was rude, and he wasn't rude. Someone had taught him better, he just couldn't remember who, or when, or why. Anyway, the people in uniform never answered his questions. As his train of thoughts came to an end the two men in uniform pulled apart, and the first came back. He didn't offer a hand, instead grasping something in his belt. As the other opened the door, the man in uniform spoke again.

"Just keep walking, okay Clark? Follow me."

Clark did as he was told, following the man in uniform. They passed several small rooms, like Clark's own room. Each had large bars across their front, and a simple bed in the corner. Only three were occupied. Clark knew he wasn't supposed to, but he couldn't help but stare at the occupants.

The first occupant was a young man. Clark could make out dishevelled red hair and darting blue eyes, but further details were hard to make out as he kept moving about. He would start something, maybe sit on the bed or look out through the bars for a few seconds, before swiftly moving off somewhere else. He seemed... disjointed, unable to focus on anything for more than those few seconds.

Next-door was another man, his demeanour very different. He was clean shaven and his whole body seemed meticulously cared for, his posture rigid and straight. The man was looking down at a watch on his wrist, his brown eyes gleaming with worry. Looking up he saw the man in uniform, and standing up he saluted and marched to the bars.

"Permission to speak sir!"

His voice was deep and strangely familiar to Clark. The man in uniform sighed, rolling his eyes.

"What do you want John?"

The man retained his strict pose, reminding Clark of something... _a soldier? Was this man a solider?_ Was Clark a soldier too then? No, somehow that didn't seem right.

"It's 10:02 sir. I am supposed to go to the showers at 10:00 sir. That was two minutes ago sir..."

Despite the man's (John was it? That was what the man in uniform had called him anyway) obvious distress the man in uniform turned away, moving on.

"I'll tell the supervisors, I'm sure they're just running late..."

He muttered something under his breath, but even Clark didn't quite catch it. Something about problems? Clark didn't have time to dwell on it as the man in uniform continued forward, past the third and final person. Clark glanced at her, and almost stopped walking. She was... amazing. Her long black hair framed a perfectly sculpted face, and her eyes were a captivating clear blue.

Clark pulled himself away, feeling inexplicably guilty. He shouldn't think like that... there was someone else. Someone he really should remember, but couldn't even picture. As he walked past he heard the woman talk avidly to the wall.

"Yes mother, having a feast is a great idea. What's that Argenta? Yes, I think Laticia would love to help plan it. I'll go speak to her now..."

As they came to yet another door Clark couldn't help but think that something was wrong. He almost recognised these people, and yet he got the feeling they shouldn't be the way they were.

Meanwhile the man in uniform was busy getting through security. This door was a lot thicker and had many checks. Clark turned his attention back to it. He read the sign, 'Ward A', but it did not mean anything to him. As the door began to unlock with a barrage of clicks the man in uniform calmly spoke.

"Okay Clark, almost back now, we're nearly there..."

As the door gave one last click and swung open another noise reached Clark's ears. Screams. He took a step back in shock, but the man in uniform continued on as if nothing was wrong. When Clark thought about it, the screams did seem familiar to him. They made him... sad. He wanted them to stop, he realised. But why?

He followed the man past more cells. The first held a figure, strapped to a gurney and not moving. The figure was not like other people. His skin was green, his eyes red and his shape not quite human. Clark didn't feel surprised at this though. It was as if he knew this person too. And yet something about the way he remained so still he was barely breathing, the way those red eyes stared ahead so vacantly, made him once again feel that inexplicable sadness.

The next cell revealed the source of the screaming. Another person was inside, once again thoroughly secured to a gurney. The figure was not quite as strange as the previous, her appearance human except for the large grey structures that seemed to come from her back. _Wings,_ Clark thought, _they are wings_. He once again felt the itch in his brain of recognition. He paused awhile and watched as the figure thrashed wildly, green eyes wide in terror, screaming out but not in words that Clark could understand.

Clark frowned. Like with the last person, her condition made him sad. He wanted to... help them... he should help them... should be able to...

"We're here Clark, go back in your room."

Clark hesitated for a heartbeat before obliging. His room was different from the other two- he didn't get strapped to a gurney, but there was the strange red light that shone from the ceiling. It made him feel so tired, made his head fill with thicker fog. As the man in uniform walked away, Clark sank onto the bed. As he drifted into the blackness of sleep, that single clear thought pierced his mind again.

 _He would be laughing now._


	3. The Great Divide

The Great Divide

Queen Hippolyta sat in the temple of Athena, head bowed as she burnt her offering to the goddess. Finishing her silent prayer, she turned and gazed out across the shore. Smiling her eyes picked out the gold and silver gleam of armour as she watched her Amazon warriors go about their daily life. They sparred together, worked together, talked together as they rested. Everyone was so unified Hippolyta couldn't help but feel proud of her race. The Amazons, no womenkind itself, was stronger than ever.

A soft sound, something lightly brushing against marble, was picked up by the Queen's ears. Without turning around she addressed the figure who had appeared in the shadows of the temple.

"General, report."

The figure stiffened, a shadowy limb crossing its chest in salute before reeling off all she had to say.

"Great queen, it is as you hoped. Last night I met with the diplomat Martian Hunter as agreed, bringing the remaining men..."

Hippolyta's eyes flashed in anger at the mention of the opposite sex and she growled, causing the general to pause. However the Queen quickly composed herself, nodding behind herself at the general who quickly moved on.

"The trade went off as well as could be hoped. The remaining women were successfully retrieved and initiated as per your orders, and are currently being helped to settle in by their fellow sisters. There was a slight... hiccup... when Flash made a certain comment to Auresia, but as soon as we had returned their people and had our own returned to us we parted ways."

The general paused, shifting slightly as if remembering something unpleasant.

"I was then called to help with another battle that had broken out. A dispute had arisen at the eastern border, and Bumblebee was struggling to maintain the defences. Super and Bat were both there, leading the opposing side."

"Well? Was it a success?"

Queen Hippolyta still did not turn to face the general, so she did not see her saddened expression.

"Yes, we were able to hold them off. But at a high price. Both sides suffered many casualties. Numerous Amazons were injured, and we lost some brave fighters. Crimson fox and Ice both have given their lives for their fellow women."

Hippolyta's fist balled with rage at the waste of female life. Yet another senseless loss, caused by mankind and its petty greed. Men were downright evil, and once more innocent women were forced to pay the price. Steadying her voice, holding back the tears she would save for private mourning, she spoke

"Grant Fire leave from active duty while she mourns her friend. Tell her she has as long as she needs. We will hold send offs at nightfall."

"Yes my queen."

The general bowed, but remained in the shadows. A short silence passed, before the general hesitantly spoke again.

"M-my queen? We- we found some more women... hiding men my queen."

The Queen nonchalantly shrugged.

"Man's power can deceive even the best of us. Execute the men they were hiding in front of them then have them incarcerated until they see the error of their ways."

The general barely stifled a gasp of shock, before desperately trying to sway Hippolyta's mind

"But my queen, if we kill unarmed prisoners surely we are no better than the men? What if we make them swear allegiance to us, they could prove useful for espionage purposes and..."

At that Hippolyta swivelled to gaze into the general's eyes with an even, hard stare that silenced her. Taking a step forward, she spoke, her voice dangerously low

"Tell me general, do you know what the men,"

She spat the hated word out.

"Do if they catch one of their own hiding a woman?"

The general averted her gaze to her feet, remaining silent.

"I'll tell you what they do. They don't just kill those women, they force the very men who hid them to take their lives or they kill them both."

Keeping her intense gaze to the general Queen Hippolyta asked another question.

"Are you hiding a man, general? Is that why you side with these so called couples? Are you a traitor to your own womanhood?"

The general took a step back, eyes glimmering with fear as she hastily stuttered a response

"N-n-no my queen, I-I-I would n-n-never, I have s-s-sworn my loyalty..."

At that Hippolyta smiled, moving back. The general visibly relaxed.

"Good my dear, it pleases me to hear it. We wouldn't want to dishonour dear Diana's memory, would we? This here, all of it, I do for her. She valued you as a true friend, General Hol. See to it that you live up to that great expectation. Dismissed."

With that the Queen turned her back to the shadowy figure. At last she stepped out of the shadows, the light dancing off her red hair as much as her golden armour. Unfurling the grey wings on her back General Hol silently took to the sky, off to carry out her Queen's will.

She soared high into the sky, barely daring to breath until she was safely out of earshot and sight. Then, and only then, did she allow the single teardrop to escape her emerald green eyes awash with sorrow.


	4. What Would Have Been

What Would Have Been

General Ra'an gazed out at the barren rocky surface which the craft he was in was headed to. Recalling his briefing, he remembered its name: satellite designate 10457, formerly known to local civilisations as 'the moon'. Fidgeting slightly he flicked his tail, sneaking a glance at his pilot, General Golith. Golith was much larger than Ra'an, and his scaled skin had taken on a greyish tinge with age.

Ra'an couldn't deny that he had been ridiculously excited when his mentor had been announced, as everyone in the Gordanian army knew of and respected Golith, the oldest and longest serving general. Who better to introduce a newly promoted general to the ropes? Having already been guided through a tour of the homeworld embassies and some practice drills at an outpost in the zeta quadrant, they were now supposedly exploring the great military history of the Gordanian race. Which was why they were now approaching this barren satellite in some uninhabited corner of the Galaxy.

Ra'an was jolted out of his thoughts as the craft juddered to a halt, having landed. Springing to his feet Ra'an saluted Golith, awaiting orders and hoping he hadn't caught him dozing. Face neutral, the older alien gave his instructions

"There are suits at the back. Gear up and meet me outside, there's something important I need to show you."

Nodding earnestly Ra'an scrambled off, so that he didn't notice the smile cross Golith's face. The new general showed great potential, and he found his enthusiasm endearing. Zipping up his own suit, Golith finished up at the control panel before donning his helmet and exiting the ship. He'd barely set foot outside when he was joined once more by Ra'an. Gesturing to the sky above them, he cracked a smile as he deadpanned

"Welcome to Earth."

Ra'an gazed up in confusion at the sky. All he could see was the band of debris, little more than hunks of rock and space dust, which together held this satellite in place. Hesitantly he pointed this out to his senior

"But sir... there is nothing here."

Smiling strangely, Golith nodded.

"Exactly. What you see before you is all that is left of Earth, a planet once famed throughout the Galaxy for its many heroes. Rumour has it that it was even the home of the last Kryptonian and Martian. You see, this planet was scouted by the Thanagarians to potentially form part of their hyperspace bypass system."

Understanding shone in Ra'an's eyes as he finally realised what this trip was about. Golith smiled on the inside as the younger leaned forward in anticipation, continuing his recount.

"In fact, you could say that this very planet turned out to be the most important in the entire galaxy. It all started when the Thanagarians sent an advance military scout, a lieutenant in espionage. Although this was during the Great War, Thanagar and Karna were so far away that not even this sector's green lantern had heard of them. The perfect opportunity, and it was seized to the full.

We do not know the name of that first Thanagarian to visit earth, but we know that she integrated successfully into earth society. She joined a group of the heroes, even saved this world and several others in between sending reports back to her homeworld, one or two of which we managed to intercept. From them it appears this Thanagarian was beginning to show affection for earth. Who knows, if push came to shove she may have even sided with the earthlings when the time came.

But, sadly for her I'm sure, that first Thanagarian perished saving the very world she had been sent to study. When she did not report in, her commander investigated and discovered what had happened. This finally spurned him to action, and so he commenced the plan he had been working on with the high council in secret.

Feigning peace, a Thanagarian military unit came to earth under the guise of wanting to collect their dead so she could be returned to her home planet. In order to gain the earthlings' trust, they faked an attack by Gordanians, using one of our own captured ships. Having 'stopped' it, they offered to build protection. As the earthlings had trusted the scout, they trusted in turn her people; it wasn't until it was too late that they learned they had built not a shield but a bypass generator. The bypass was activated, destroying earth."

Golith paused to chuckle.

"But the Thanagarians did not get to celebrate their victory. We had been monitoring the situation, and chose that moment to strike back. We used their own bypass against them, channeling a reverse blast back to Thanagar itself. That planet looks akin to what you see before you now, and the Thanagarians are as dead as the Earthlings. Yet more proof of the might of the Gordanian army. Come now, if we're lucky we may be able to make it back to the gamma quadrant in time to watch some military interrogations..."

He turned and made his way back to the ship, leaving Ra'an standing there alone. The large lizard like being stood gazing at what had once been a thriving planet, confused as to what he was feeling. He should be proud, glad that his great people had won. And yet, all he felt was a vague sense of sadness. He couldn't help but feel sorrow for the world, earth, caught in a war it had never even heard of; sorrow for those heroes who had trusted aliens simply because of love for their friend; sorrow for that one scout, who had she lived may have saved them all.

 **AN: I'm afraid it's time for an author's apology. Whilst it is usually my policy to only upload complete stories, I will not be uploading the last two sections of this collection** **at the moment** **. They have been causing me a lot of grief; each has gone through at least three complete rewrites, but I am still not happy with them. I hope you understand; due to writer's block I am currently setting them to one side, hopefully I will return to them in the future. On a more positive note I hope you enjoyed the four sections I have posted. I am sorry for any inconsistencies when writing Gordanians- I am unfamiliar with them as a species, but tried to research them as best I could. I hope the results were passable!**


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